Oh, But For A Shared Madness!
by sturmgalan
Summary: When demons invade the earth, the Nations find themselves banding together to stop the menace before they're all overtaken.
1. Chapter 1

...more kink meme de-anon! Prompt was pretty much, "for some reason demons have invaded the human realm. modern weapons do not work on them, not unless they have been charged with magic of some sort (or blessed) so the older sorts are brought back (swords, axes, etc)." No any really overt pairings so far, I think. Hell, at the moment, it's just GIANT EXPLOSION OF CAST.

Erm. Thank you for reading, please crit and comment? m(_ _)m

* * *

The thing was, Romano was a coward. He'd be, well. He'd be the last to admit that, actually, but in the rare moments of self-honesty, he'd acknowledge it was the truth. Or that it was... _a_ truth at least, the same way the fact he wasn't Veneziano was a truth. That it wasn't a good thing, but it wasn't all bad either (or so he hoped); there were some highlights that made it okay for it to be a truth about himself. He was a coward, but he was good at surviving.

So his feet were already moving before the scream finished, the sound high and unearthly and _lingering_, and _Madre di Dio_, what the fucking fuck? Instinct directed him through the lesser-used streetways and on toward home, even as he ignored the other, more human screams of his people.

Still, he had enough presence of mind not to forget the tomatoes.

...

"England, England!"

There were some days England wished the fae weren't so fond of him. Or at least that their voices wouldn't get so shrill.

It was, in England's opinion, far too early in the day to get all het up about anything. "Early" in this case meant "while he still had a hangover"; in truth it was fast approaching noon and he'd overslept by a good few hours. Not that it mattered overly much. He had no plans for the day. The fae, on the other hand...

"_England_!" The fae had moved on from just calling his name to actively tugging any part of him they could get a grasp on. "Trouble, trouble!"

"Trouble like- bloody hell, why are there redcaps in my home- Out! You'll drip everywhere!"

"Wretched things! Big trouble!"

And then, as if speaking of the trouble called it, the sky went black.

"Oh," he said. "I see." (Though he really didn't.) "That's bad, isn't it."

The cries got shriller. The hangover continued to pound painfully within his skull.

"Bully for us then," he groaned, and got up to find his spell books.

...

This was so not cool at _all_.

When the things had first showed up, America had thought maybe it was the movie production of his latest (awesome) thriller. It had made sense at the time - why else would projections of honest-to-God _really creepy monsters_ be materialising from the ground? But the notion had been dashed as soon as the creatures began to move, ripping into nearby passersby with nary a thought.

There was no mistaking that. That was fear in the hearts of his people! _And_ his hero senses were tingling. "Hey, stop that! Everyone, get away, I'll distract them!"

He couldn't quite suppress a shudder as he charged, however. The early morning mist hadn't quite dissipated yet. In fact, if he didn't know better, it seemed to be getting thicker...

...

Russia knew demons, knew sometimes the greatest devils were men themselves. But this cold, oh the _cold_.

Arms wrapped around him, its biting ice worse than General Winter. "Oh," the creature cooed. "You dear, dear child."

.

**To be continued.**


	2. Chapter 2

I'd feel sorry for Germany, but- oh, who am I kidding, I find Germany's pain hilarious. (The chapters do get longer, I promise.)

* * *

Italy didn't enter Germany's home so much as the country barreled in. It was testament to how common such occurrences were that Germany merely looked long-suffering at Italy's entrance from the couch, even as he braced himself. Italy didn't disappoint and tumbled into him.

"Germanyyyyyy! D-d-d-demons!"

"What-" he managed to get out, before Italy steamrolled on.

"Or that's what Fratello says they are and he'd probably know best but he said he only really knows how to get rid of demonic possession and do blessings sort of and he sent me ahead so he could get Big Brother Spain and he also told me to tell you that 'if that potato-sucking bastard lets anything happen to you, I'll personally put out the hit on him' and Germanyyyyy."

He took a few, precious moments to massage at his temple, before he awkwardly removed a clinging Italy from his lap.

"Italy," he commanded. "Breathe." He waited until Italy had taken one gasping breath, two, before continuing. "Now again, and slower."

"There are demons," gasp, sniffle, "and Fratello went to get Big Brother Spain," vague gesture, "and he said 'if that potato-sucking basta-'"

He groaned and waved Italy quiet. "Yes, yes." Suddenly he found himself wishing for those times when Italy's panic had been over pasta, or the lack thereof. It had made slightly more sense than... all this.

He was quite possibly going mad, so of course his brother took that moment to enter.

"Oh hey, I thought I heard Italy's voice. Come to visit West again, huh?" It was an absentminded sort of question, and he had the vague hope that would be the end of it as Prussia rummaged for a beer. He didn't think he could deal with brotherly ribbing on top of everything else. The supernatural, combined with his brother- oh God.

But Italy was already nodding, somehow back on his lap again, and answering, "Yup! So Germany can protect me from the demons, ve~" and-

Three things happened then, a momentous second of horror that would live on in his brain forever.  
-Prussia's head jerked up, barely missing the refrigerator door. "_Demons_?" the man asked, with far too much unholy glee.  
-His hand clapped over Italy's mouth, too late.  
-The sound of regretfully familiar cursing grew louder at an alarming pace.

The door slammed open and revealed three figures, two of them wielding old but familiar weapons that dripped with a substance that was not quite blood.

"Fratello! Spain! ...Big Brother France? Hi! I didn't know you were coming."  
"Well, there is safety in numbers, non, Italy?"  
"France! Spain! Fucking awesome!"  
"Hi Prussia! Hi Italito! Hi Germany!"  
"V-Veneziano! Get off that bastard's lap! You! How dare you get so close to him like that!"

"Oh _God_." Some days, it just wasn't worth it to get out of bed.

.

**To be continued.**


	3. Chapter 3

Still just a lot of jumping around character-wise, sorry. I... wanted to bring in as many characters as I could? Which is probably stupidly ambitious, especially when it comes to balancing said characters, but.

As always, reviews are welcome.

* * *

"Brother, this one doesn't work either."

Switzerland acknowledged the comment with a grunt, more interested in studying the scene outside. The things had been scrabbling at the outer walls of the fortress for hours now, leaving gouges and char marks on stone and steel. At least it _was_ holding up though. And at least the creatures couldn't fly. Yet.

It was, he decided, fortunate he tended to plan for all eventualities, or he and Liechtenstein would have been trapped in the less-defensible house their city residence was. It was unsettling that none of his guns had managed to make an impact so far though.

Switzerland frowned and held out his hand. "Next weapon, Liechtenstein."

"Yes, brother!"

...

The axe whistled through the air and clove the demon in two. Denmark cackled with the kill, mentally adding to his tally. His blood sang as he swung again, a claw slicing through his sleeve and cutting flesh, but he didn't care. Oh, how little he minded! He hadn't had a battle like this for far too long.

Duck, sidestep, raise the blade high and let it fall. In the middle of nowhere, with nothing else around, the demons swarmed to him, in fact threatened to overwhelm him completely through sheer numbers alone. That probably didn't bode too well for their success in ridding the infestation, come to think of it, but he'd rather worry about the present before the future any day.

Like figuring out the quickest way to carve a path forward.

A heavy thud shuddered the ground behind him, and he whirled around to find Norway approaching, Iceland half a step after. Everything between them had been flattened.

Norway's expression was blank as always. "Watch your back. Idiot," and idly flicked a hand that sent howling lights mowing clear an opening.

"I knew you cared!" he crowed as the brothers fell to his side, though the remark got him an "accidental" jab from the hilt of Iceland's sword. Iceland didn't bother to apologize. That was all right. He was sure that was how either of them expressed affection! "I- I'm okay! Ow," he wheezed instead.

Shaking his head, Norway took a deep breath, let it out and let himself fall behind. "Buy me time," he said, and drawing on his magic, began to call on ice and fire.

...

The streets had quieted since the sky had gone dark, most people either barricaded in their own homes or dead already. Even the cats had disappeared; for once, there was no sign of them other than a lingering pungent scent. Greece was just glad they'd gotten away.

"Young man!" someone called. The voice sliced through the quiet, beckoning. Greece scanned the row of buildings until he found an old woman standing at her window. She motioned at him impatiently.

He pointed to himself. "Ah... me?"

"Who else do you see? Now hurry and come closer, don't keep me waiting." She nodded, satisfied, when he complied. "Good boy. I have a gift for you."

The sword she shoved to him felt familiar the way his mother's armour and weapons had - not the same, but of a family - and he marveled over it, its solid presence. When he looked up to thank the woman, she had disappeared.

"...Mmn, thank you," he said, nonetheless.

.

**To be continued.**


	4. Chapter 4

...Oops, I forgot to catch up on uploading the chapters here. [shifty eyes]

* * *

Canada was in the middle of bashing one of the _things_ when his phone trilled in his pocket.

"Fuck," he muttered, pulling the device out even as he casually brained yet another creature. (If there were one thing hockey was good for, besides being a marvelous way to let out aggression, it was for honing the reflexes to bash _anything_ coming at him.) His brows furrowed when he realised it was an alert from the "International Chatroom, Yeah!" - one attempt of many to foster good international relations that had died a fiery death. It had been taken over by nonsense and all caps arguments nearly as soon as it had been introduced; in the end, out of sheer frustration, everyone had agreed to drop it. He hadn't even realised it still existed. Actually, he was sort of surprised he still had a signal to receive the message.

Looking at the text that was already erupting over his phone screen though, it was probably a good idea to hole up somewhere where he could concentrate on the conversation and not the fight.

...

Big Brother France: Hello? Is there anyone there?  
Polska~~~: like hi? wow i like ttly 4got about this  
Bundesrepublik Deutschland: ...yes, well.  
Bundesrepublik Deutschland: Those who have gathered at my house feel it would be best to meet in Rome to discuss the current situation.  
Bundesrepublik Deutschland: At the moment, the Vatican seems to be safe of the creatures. Therefore, I propose those who wish to add their input travel to Vatican City as soon as possible.  
Mexico: Fah! You Europeans! So centered upon yourselves!  
Mexico: And how do you propose people get there, hm?  
Madagasikara: Well I don't care.  
Madagasikara: I'm closing borders. You keep your monsters out, I'll keep mine in.  
Madagasikara: Now let me sign off already.  
Liechtenstein: Brother says he agrees with Madagascar's plan.  
Polska~~~: way 2 be total moodkillers.  
Polska~~~: i'll ttly go if it's safe! so like some1's going to come pick me up right?  
Polska~~~: o wait i gotta tell liet brb  
The United States of America, FUCK YEAH!: man mex alrdy sed wat i was gonna. neway i cant jst leve my citzns! thatd b ttly unheroic!  
Big Brother France: I disagree with whatever you said.  
Mexico: I'm ashamed to be related to you in any way.  
中國: Your username too long. Also type more properly. Also seem like you say something half sensible for once. I think. How amazing, ah~ :o  
The United States of America, FUCK YEAH!: hey!  
The United States of America, FUCK YEAH!: wats w th dogpile on me thats so uncool  
Veneziano here!: but but but fratello says the vatican really is safe! and ve~ germany's making a face again.  
Bundesrepublik Deutschland: Italy!  
Veneziano here!: Huh?  
Bundesrepublik Deutschland: ...never mind.  
Bundesrepublik Deutschland: In any case! Anyone who is interested, come to the Vatican. End of discussion.  
中國: Aiyah, so bossy, ah. I will think about it. Family is priority.  
Canada: Hello. Has anyone heard from England yet?  
The United States of America, FUCK YEAH!: whos at ur place neway grmny? u sed thers ppl ther rite?  
Big Brother France: That would be Germany, Prussia, the Italies, Spain, and, of course, myself.  
The United States of America, FUCK YEAH!: ha! c u cud undrstnd me!  
Canada: Um...  
Big Brother France: I'm sorry, I'm afraid I couldn't quite catch what you said.  
The United States of America, FUCK YEAH!: hey!  
Canada: EXCUSE ME.  
Mexico: What would you expect from America?  
Canada: ...Never mind.

...

Back at Germany's house, however, most of the occupants were more interested in the storm brewing off the computer screens.

The couch had become a veritable war zone. Germany had moved everything breakable to the kitchen early on; foresight and decades of living with his brother had taught him it was always better to be safe than sorry. Since the phone call from the Vatican church had informed them of the city-state's status, it'd been an ongoing battle to wear Romano down from barring everyone but his brother and himself entry, to finally allowing them to host a world meeting there. After all, it might have been the only place safe enough and big enough at the moment to hold everyone who might come.

They'd been mostly successful, in that they'd finally gotten Romano to agree. Romano had yet to stop _yelling_ though. "I'm only letting you guys into Rome to keep Fratello safe, got it?"

"You're such a good brother! Buhyo~ Ah! Your face is turning red again! So cuuuuuute."

"Sto- mmph! STOP SQUISHING MY CHEEKS, YOU BASTARD!" A crash. Not for the first time in the past couple hours, Germany was thankful he'd left the room. If only there were some way to keep an eye on everyone and yet be even further...

Footsteps alerted him to France's presence before the other man stopped at his side. It was strange to consider, but at the moment France was the most level-headed nation under his roof, himself aside. It was true too, though, that the man was also possibly the oldest nation under his roof. It was hard to remember that sometimes.

He tensed as France leaned in - too close! - to peer at his screen. Hadn't the man been accessing the conversation with his phone earlier? Surely there was no need for the man to look over his shoulder!

"Well! For better or worse, it seems to be decided," France said. The man's breath ghosted against his ear as he spoke, and kneejerk reaction, he shoved France back, his arm faltering only when he realised.

"My apologies."

"No, no. I didn't realise you'd be so... _sensitive_."

Of course, this was France. "We should get ready to travel," he said, choosing to ignore the last statement.

He could still feel France's gaze on his back when he went to herd everyone into some semblance of order.

.

**To be continued.**


	5. Chapter 5

Ah Russia. Writing him will forever be the bane of my Hetalia fic-writing existence. orz Also, I love East Asia but rarely ever write them. I really should write them more. Someday. siiiiiigh. Almost caught up on uploading chapters. Sorry, I'm just too lazy to do formatting half the time, haha.

* * *

There had to be some irony in the fact that, for once, the trouble at Tokyo Tower was actually quite real.

Not that Japan had much time to consider it. Even as the tower burned, his people rushed to put out the fires, others fighting back the supernatural forces as best they could. His heart thrummed with pride at his people's efforts, but it hurt, too.

It'd been little more than a week, and yet there'd already been so much destruction. And all he could think was that these things weren't supposed to be real.

He'd almost begun to think he couldn't possibly be any more shocked when a massive tiger, big as a house, pounced into the fray with a roar that shook rafters. The dragon that trailed in its wake was just icing on the cake.

His life was not supposed to be like something out of manga!

If Japan were the type to do so, his jaw probably would have hit the ground. As it was, he merely boggled wide-eyed, only reflexes saving him from toppling as a blur of pink flung into him. "Japan!"

"Taiwan-chan?"

Not just Taiwan. Approaching at a much slower pace were- "China-san? South Korea-san?" They'd dragged along Hong Kong too, and apparently Vietnam, as she came into view, lips thinned. Thailand sauntered behind, with Singapore and Malaysia practically bouncing as they made up the rear guard.

"We've come to pick you up. Even if you will probably agree with everyone and not be helpful, aru."

A blink, two. "...pick me up?"

"We're going to Rome. Emergency world meeting!" South Korea's face fell for a moment before a gentler, more rueful grin took over. "Though I couldn't get Sister to come. Says she doesn't trust the Westerners."

Vietnam snorted. "Wise of her."

"Yes, yes, aru. Which is why we should hurry to knock some sense into them. Japan, hurry up and seal your land so we can go, ah."

He didn't have that magic any more, he wanted to say, but then what he'd thought was adrenaline bubbled over and spread through his veins and _oh_, he would admit that he'd missed it. How had he ever forgotten this?

"It is done," he said. His voice rang strangely through the air.

At least no more demons could enter now. He would trust in his people to eradicate what was already there.

Then he was reaching for the blood of his people, of the people he once might have called family, and the world blurred by in steps that crossed a thousand leagues each.

Beside him, China was smiling, and South Korea's laughter lingered on the wind.

...

"_Brother_!"

The scream pierced the numbing fog in Russia's mind. So cold, he thought, but that was Ukraine's voice. His sister's voice should not hold that tremor of fear. He had to go to her.

He tried to unfurl from the fetal position he'd adopted to conserve warmth. It was when he couldn't that his mind really began to wake, all his muscles tensing. Opening his eyes, he was met with darkness. He hummed to himself. Perhaps this was what an egg felt like, if there weren't the freezing temperatures, yes? He would just have to break out then.

Russia paid no mind to the sound of fighting outside. He focused on escaping instead, shifting until he was able to rummage through his pockets. The knife he found was useless, unable to penetrate whatever imprisoned him. (It must be made in America, he decided, before throwing it away.) The seeds, he let fall back into his pocket before he continued feeling around. Food, vodka, pen, matches...

...Matches?

In his haste to examine them more closely, he slammed his elbow into one of the walls. The entire structure wobbled for a moment before stabilising once more. He paid it no mind. Gently, carefully, he pulled a single matchstick from the book and struck it. It flared to life, and he briefly cupped its warmth between his palms before lifting it to the wall.

Soon, the cocoon around him began smoking, and then a tendril of flame caught, eating away at the walls. Before it could burn even further, Russia patted the fire out.

He regarded the burnt spot consideringly, where the fire had thinned the material and let light through, just a little. The flame had done a surprising amount of damage in such a short amount of time. Before the matchstick's flame could reach his fingertips, he shook that out too, and then he sat back and thought.

On the one hand, setting the cocoon on fire could mean being trapped within flaming walls if he couldn't put it out quickly enough. On the other hand, it would certainly destroy his prison.

Put that way, there was really only one choice.

Outside, Belarus and Ukraine watched as their brother fell from the ceiling, the giant web that had spanned the room breaking in a rain of ash and fire. He stood when he hit the ground, putting out fires where they'd caught on his clothes.

And then he turned, and looked around, and when he found the half-woman, half-spider _thing_ that had been in their way when they tried to enter their brother's home, he smiled.

It was a little too wide to be considered a particularly nice smile. It was, in fact, comparable to the smile of a boy about to pull off a moth's wings while it still lived.

"That was a very bad thing you did to me," Russia said. Rummaging through his pockets again, he pulled out the bottle of vodka he'd found earlier, and then tore another match from the matchbook. Ah, he mourned. It would be a waste of good vodka, really. "Sisters, please be careful."

Still, the spider-lady did scream so delightfully when she burned.

.

**To be continued.**


End file.
